Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gravitation. This is purely for entertainment purposes.

Hope you enjoy.

The annoying screech of Shuichi's voicemail blasted into Eiri's ear as he pulled the phone away from his face in disgust. He quickly hung up the phone and placed it down on his office desk. Looking back at the last thing he had written he found himself cringing at what he puked up in terms of feelings. Slowly reaching out to his mouse he selected everything that he had worked on that morning and moved his hand over to hover above the delete button. Scanning the words for one last time, Eiri shook his head and slammed his finger down on the delete button. He looked back over to his phone, wondering if Shuichi would call him back or if Eiri had scared him off with his forward advances. All Eiri wanted was to try and feel what he had felt before. He didn't like not being able to remember what some form of happiness or sense of feeling content in life was like. The most he could remember right now is that he hated being in New York because of Kitazawa. He wondered how on earth some young kid could get him to move past that pain. He also found himself wondering if that was just something he had convinced everybody of and he really hadn't let go and chose to live in silence of the situation.

At this point in time Eiri could honestly tell himself that he didn't give a damn about Shuichi. Where he gave a damn was trying to piece together the fragmented and hazy memories of his life. He was sick and tired of his older sister trying to convince him that he was better off, and happier. To him it was like telling a person that they lived up to so much, but now it's being ripped away from them and they could never have all that glory back and for no good reason. Eiri wanted nothing more than to always be in control of his life and what he chose to let into his life. Knowing that about himself made him so infuriated that he went against so many things he believed in to share his life with a man. A man with a frivolous choice in career, no less.

Thinking back on how Shuchi was a vocalist he remembered seeing a DVD of a performance by Bad Luck sitting near his TV. Every part of his mind told him not to get up, but the blonde couldn't resist the urge to go out into the living room and find the DVD. Eiri stared down at the cover image, in particular looking at Shuichi. His eyes traced every bit of the boy that he possibly could, searching anywhere in his brain for something to trigger a distant memory. Letting out a sigh, Eiri popped open the case and pulled the disc out. He pressed the eject button on his DVD player and placed the disc in before shutting the tray closed. He walked back over to his couch and took a seat, leaning forward to grab the remote. Pressing play on the screen menu he waited eagerly to watch what everybody referred to as Eiri's husband.

Eiri watched as Shuichi tightly grasped his microphone with a smirk gracing his face, bright lights dancing across the stage. The boy gently swayed his hips to the sound of the song's intro and Eiri couldn't help but stay fixated on that detail. "He moves like a woman," Eiri spoke aloud as he continued to stare. Soon the sound of Shuichi's voice filled Eiri's ears and his gaze moved up to Shu's face.

'The cold times make dreams fall like rain and slip through my hands. When I woke up from the countless wishes, you are reflected in a shimmering illusion... The silhouette whose faint smile leads me along.' 1

Those lyrics Eiri was hearing made him wonder about how he treated Shuichi in their past. Eiri had no issues admitting that he was a complete asshole. He wouldn't be surprised if he was just the exact same way to Shuichi that he was to everyone else. The last part rang through his head. 'The silhouette whose faint smile leads me along.' Eiri wondered if he ever strung Shuichi along by just giving him a smile. He had known that to happen with many women. Hell, there were times where he felt that just giving a person eye contact would make them feel as though he was flirting with them. Eiri broke away from his inner monologue and continued to watch the band's performance. He couldn't deny that there was a physical attraction to Shuichi. He was petite with soft features. He had such soft and clear skin with hair that framed his face perfectly. Shuichi's sharp eyes gave Eiri the feeling of determination which made sense as an attribute if Shu was able to lock down Eiri.

Eiri couldn't help but notice the amount of navel Shuichi was showing off in his wardrobe choice and he could feel a small rush of blood flowing down to his nether regions. Looking down at his crotch and seeing a raising motion forming in his pants Eiri could feel himself becoming nervous and blushing. "Fuck this," he muttered as he turned the TV off and stood up. He cleared his throat in attempt to remind himself of how he thought he was behaving irrationally. Looking back down at his pants he sighed and made his way to the bathroom. Eiri walked to the shower and turned the cold faucet before undressing himself. He took a sharp breath in before slowing tip-toeing into the shower. A loud grunt of displeasure came from Eiri as he tried to suck it up and let the cold water wash over his body.

Cursing at himself for how easily he could become aroused, Eiri told himself that it had nothing to do with Shuichi as a person. Convincing himself that it was merely the provocative attire and the motions Shuichi was making with his slender body, Eiri watched as his erection began to lessen. He began to ask himself how Shuichi was able to make any sales with that pointless drivel. It seemed that the more he tried to belittle Shuichi the more he could try and not let his forgotten past haunt him.

About a week since Ryuichi had suggested therapy, Shuichi found himself sitting nervously in a cushioned chair that seemed way too large. He felt as though the chair would suddenly come to life and swallow him whole. He looked down at the brown and orange floral pattern that covered the chair and began to lightly trace the pattern with his index finger. The texture felt rough and the stimulation made him feel slightly more comforted. Almost forgetting for a moment where he was, Shuichi's attention was drawn back to the woman sitting across from him. She looked no older than 40, with long fluffy black hair covering down to most of her torso. Shuichi could see that there was some sort of print on her shirt, but he couldn't make it out at all with the woman's mane hiding it. He looked up to trace the lines of her face. She had a very narrow face, with her chin coming down to a fine point. Her nose was small with the slightest up curve at the end. She had dark brown eyes that seemed to have little flecks of black in random places. Her mouth was glimmering from her lip gloss, and Shu could see the smile wrinkles at the corners of her mouth. He continued to stare at the woman uncomfortably, not knowing if he was supposed to say anything.

At Shuichi's great relief the woman spoke up. "My name is Janette. I understand you're here today to see if therapy is something you feel that you can benefit from?" She asked in an interested tone.

"Well," Shu began as he stalled to find the words he wanted to say. "I kind of feel like I'm forced to be here."

Janette quickly scribbled something down in a notebook resting in her lap and looked back up to Shuichi. "Who do you feel is forcing you to be here?" She asked as she flipped the left side of her hair behind her shoulder.

Before answering Shuichi took another look at the woman's shirt to see that there was mandala pattern on it. He looked back up to make eye contact with Janette. "Um, well, nobody really." He responded.

Janette tilted her head to the left side. "Then why do you feel like you're forced?" she inquired.

Shuichi sat in silence for a moment, looking back down to the woman's shirt. His eyes slowly followed the pattern before him as he wondered how to say what he wanted to. "I guess what I mean is, no outside sources forced me. I forced myself," Shu answered in a quiet tone.

As she wrote down a few more things in her notebook, Janette cleared her throat before asking, "Why do you feel like you're forcing yourself?"

Shuichi thought about his conditioning to believe that therapy was for crazy and weak people. He didn't know how he felt about telling this woman that he had a negative view of her profession but he thought back to how Ryuichi had told him that he could say anything and not feel judged. He let out a small sigh and looked the woman straight in the eye. "I was raised in an environment to believe that therapy is for… Well," Shuichi bit his lower lip slightly, not feeling comfortable finishing his statement.

"Mentally ill people?" Janette asked in attempt to answer Shuichi's thought.

Shuichi silently nodded and had a sheepish look on his face. "I'm sorry," he meekishly said.

"No, don't apologize for something like that. A lot of people have a hard time with the idea of therapy," Janette responded with a kind smile. "Where are you from, Mr. Shindou?"

Shuichi blinked a couple times at how easily his fear of being rude was just waved off. Just the thought made him feel like a bad person. "Um, Japan. I come to New York a lot for business and for my, um, husband. And please, call me Shuichi."

"Okay, Shuichi. Well, may I ask if your culture has anything to do with that opinion? Or was it just your family?" Janette asked while adjusting in her seat.

"Well, it is becoming a more common thing in Japan these days. However a lot of us do have a hard time with being open about feelings. My grandparents are pretty old school, and that really rubbed off on my mom. But I guess I never formed my own opinion and just followed what was around me," Shu answered as he stared down at his fidgeting hands.

"And that's just fine," Janette responded as she jotted a few more things down. "What do you do for a living?"

Shuichi chuckled. "I'm a singer in a band, and a songwriter."

One of Janette's eyebrows raised to the answer. "So would you say that you have an easy time expressing yourself?"

Shuichi thought about the question for a few moments. He knew he was the most emotional person any of his friends knew, but most of them would consider that as being dramatic. "I guess I can be dramatic, but most of my expression really only comes out in my music. It's my respite. I mean, before I could be personal with Eiri," he said sullenly.

Again, Janette was writing as she started to ask another question. "Will you tell me about your husband?"

A breath hitched in Shuichi's throat. He wasn't sure if he was ready to talk about Eiri even though that's what he had come for. He didn't know where to begin with that whole mess. "He's an author," he said before clearing his throat. He knew that he had answered in a way to give as little as he could. Just saying the words out loud that his husband was in an accident terrified him.

"Okay," Janette responded with a small chuckle. "What else can you tell me?"

Shuichi curled his lips in as he thought about what else to say. "Well, he's cold most of the time. But when he isn't it's the most amazing feeling in the world."

Janette wrote in her notebook once more before looking back up to Shuichi with a very serious face. "Does he abuse you?"

"Oh, no. Not at all. He just likes his space and doesn't want to be bothered a lot of the time," Shu answered with a weak smile.

Flipping back a page in her notebook, Janette's eye scanned the page before turning the page back to the one she was on and looking back to Shu. "In your paperwork you mentioned one of the reasons you were coming in was your husband. Is that because he can be cold to you?"

Shuichi looked down to his hands and fiddled his thumbs together. "Um, no." He sighed and knew that he just had to say it. He had to come to terms with what was happening in his life and actually discuss the one thing he was avoiding. "He was in an accident," Shu slowly forced out of his mouth. "He was hit by a car in the head."

Janette's eyes widened at the statement. "Oh my god," she said silently as she wrote it down. "What happened to him?" she asked as he gave Shuichi a truly saddened face.

Shuichi watched as the woman's eyes stayed focused on him. "Well, he's got a large scar on the side of his face, and he has some trouble getting around. His left hand is rather weak, and…" Shuichi took a long pause, forcing himself to gather the courage to just say it. There was no changing it, so what harm could come from just saying the words? "He doesn't remember me," he choked out, tears starting to fall from his eyes. Grabbing a box of tissues on a cheap looking black laptop table, Janette handed the box out to Shuichi. Shu quickly took the box and placed it in his lap. He pulled out a tissue to wipe his face then balled it up in his hand and looked away from Janette.

"I can't even imagine what you're going through," Janette offered in a consoling tone.

Shuichi quickly looked back up to Janette. "Hell," he put bluntly. "Every morning I wake up and the first thing I remember is holding his limp body in my arms."

"You were there when it happened?" Asked Janette as she sighed in sympathy.

Shuichi nodded, his mind flashing to the the feeling of Eiri's warm blood on his hand. He could feel his grip on the balled up tissue in his hand tightening as the memories of Eiri remaining completely motionless flooded his brain. The smell in the air that day was unforgettable to Shuichi. It was an odd mixture of the brisk fall morning and the slowly drying blood coving Eiri's face, which smelled faintly of rust. He remembered the sound of the ambulance siren as the vehicle sped to the scene. The sound of the paramedic's voices were just a mumbled blur to Shuichi. All that was in his mind was watching what he thought was the love of his life dying on the street.

Shuichi was snapped out of his thoughts as the sound of Janette's voice caught his attention. "What's going on in your mind right now?" She asked delicately.

"Blood," came Shu's short response. He could feel his hand idly rubbing and rolling around the tissue in his hands. Noticing tiny bits of the tissue breaking off, he shoved the tissue in his pants pocket and looked up to Janette. "There was a lot of blood. On him, on me, on the street. Everywhere."

Janette sat in silence as she watched Shuichi's face carefully. She looked down to her notebook and began to write once more. "How often do you think about that?"

"Multiple times a day," Shu responded as he shifted around in the large chair. "I don't really know how comfortable I feel talking about it all yet," he commented as he tried to fight back tears.

A kind smile was offered to Shuichi from Janette as she said, "That's completely fine. You can say whatever you need to say at whatever pace."

Shuichi sighed and slouched down in his chair some. "I just wish I knew how he felt, or if he knew what it was like for me to go through that. But he wouldn't care at all what I went through… He's the Eiri he was before I met him, and that Eiri hates me. Maybe not even hate, just couldn't care less about my existence," he explained as he stared down to the box of tissues sitting in his lap. He slowly pulled one from the box and dabbed under his moistened eyes.

"Have you talked to him at all about this?" Janette asked as she brushed some hair out of her face.

Shuichi shook his head. "Not really, no."

"It sounds to me like you have a lot to say," Janette commented in a soothing voice. She watched as Shuichi nodded slightly and continued, "You know, I'm willing to bet that your husband is more curious about what you have to say than you think he is."

With a raised eyebrow of confusion, Shu looked up to Janette. "Really?" he asked apprehensively, balling up the second tissue he had used and shoving it into his pocket.

"Shuichi, you say he's a cold person but I don't think that anyone wouldn't want to know about what memories they've lost no matter how cold they are to other people. I would assume he's been told things but nobody can really tell him about the life you built together except for you." Janette took a pause and watched Shuichi as she could see his left eye twitching slightly. She could feel the dread Shuichi had just by being near him. "You're free to disagree with me, but I think it would be helpful to both of you to actually sit down and have a conversation. It's going to be awkward, and he might try to dodge the conversation but there are things you both need from it. I really think you should, when you're comfortable with it that is, sit down with him and really talk about your situation."

Sitting in silence for a few moments, Shuichi really thought about what was said to him. He didn't want to try getting Eiri to talk to him. Knowing Eiri, Shu was certain that he would just be waved off. Shuichi was beginning to feel like he had lost his fighting spirit when it came to his husband. Not long ago he would eagerly push his thoughts onto Eiri and corner him into saying at least something about what he was feeling. Now though, he felt as though everything was hopeless. There was nothing more he wanted than for everything to find its way back to normal but he knew that was impossible. But how much would it really hurt him to not even bother trying? "I guess," he spoke, finally breaking the silence, "it might be worth a shot."

A little more than a week and half had passed since Eiri had tried getting in contact with Shuichi, and he felt okay with giving up on the idea entirely. Eiri felt as though he was losing nothing, even though he knew so much was missing. Knowing he had conditioned himself to disregard feelings, especially those of others, Eiri was beginning to find it easier to ignore his condition and just try to continue life as he knew it to be. Eiri began to shut out his family and keep to himself, hoping for some time to just simply exist. He was growing tired of everybody asking him if he could remember this or that, he just wanted to ask himself why he was still alive. Eiri didn't have a deathwish nor did he feel thankless that his life was spared, but he couldn't help but wonder if things would have been easier on everyone if he had died.

Wondering if he felt guilty for surviving, Eiri sighed as his phone began to ring. Simply assuming that it was Seguchi or Mika he chose to ignore the call and get up from his office desk. Slowly he shuffled his way to his couch and carefully sat down. With the sound of the phone in his office still going off he grumbled and reached forward to his coffee table. He grabbed a prescription bottle and leaned back against the couch. Scanning the words on the label, Eiri debated opening the bottle and taking a couple of his painkillers. The sound of the ringing phone came to and end only to immediately start ringing again.

"Fuck off, would you?" Eiri muttered as he slowly got up and made his way to the kitchen, clutching his pills in his hand. He reached up to a cabinet to pull down a glass and filled it with water. Placing the glass down, Eiri took one more look at the bottle of pills before popping it open and shaking two out into his hand. Placing the cap back on and setting the bottle down, he tossed both the pills in his mouth and took the water, quickly drinking at it to wash down the bitter tasting drug. As he walked back out to the living room, the sound of the phone stopping made Eiri sigh in relief. As he was about to sit back down the phone started to ring once more.

"Fine!" Eiri growled as he stumbled his way to the office. He sat down in his chair and angrily grabbed the phone, turning it on and putting it to his ear. "Could you just fuck off, Seguchi? I don't need your hippy dippy helping hands right now, I need some goddamn time to myself!" he yelled into the phone while grabbing a cigarette and hastily lighting it up.

"I'm sorry, it's Shuichi," came a very shy voice.

Eiri took a long drag from his cigarette and held it in for a couple seconds before sighing. "Sorry," he muttered in response.

"I didn't mean to be annoying," Shu quietly said.

"Yeah, you're annoying," Eiri retorted. He took another drag from his cigarette and shook his head to himself. "It's fine, did you need something?" He asked while ashing his cigarette. He found himself feeling slightly pleased that Shuichi had called him but couldn't help but be his cold self to the boy.

There was a stammer from Shuichi, followed by an awkward pause. "I was hoping that we could have a conversation," the boy answered meekly.

Eiri's left eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Then talk," he commanded.

"No," Shuichi sighed. "I mean I want to talk to you in person," he clarified.

Eiri leaned back in his chair some, causing it to make a creaking sound. "What do you want to talk to me about?" he inquired with a bemused tone.

"You just said you wanted time to yourself, but Eiri I need to talk to you about us, and about your accident," Shuichi said while gaining a little more confidence in his voice.

A scoff came from Eiri. "Why does everybody want to talk about our relationship and my goddamn accident?" he questioned angrily.

Shuichi took a long pause before finally responding, "Eiri that's all third party; I was there. I saw what happened to you, and I lived our relationship with you. And quite frankly, I have things that need to be heard by only you. I know that you couldn't care less about the memories you don't have but I do. Let me have my peace and then I can live my life and you can do the same. Please?"

Eiri thought for a moment. He found himself feeling like Shuichi had a point. Everything he was hearing was in fact all third party. Maybe it would do him some good to really talk to the person he shared the most intimate parts of his life with. "Okay," he finally replied. "I'll come over to your apartment tomorrow," he declared.

"Thank you, Eiri," Shuichi said quietly before Eiri hung up the phone.

1 Translated lyrics from the Gravitation song Glaring Dream.

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